The Golden Boy's Year Of Existential Crisis' & Changes of Mind & Heart
by quackquackduckstuck18
Summary: Harry Potter is in his third year of Hogwarts and things are beginning to change: The dynamic of his friend group, his relationships with (some of) the Slytherins, and his knowledge of his parents. He battles with figuring out himself versus "The Boy who Lived". Sorry, this is discontinued for the time being- might pick it back up later though
1. 1: The year begins

"Hey golden boy" Malfoy sneers at Harry, casually leaning on the wall across the hall from where Harry and the rest of the golden trio were waiting outside the DADA classroom.

Class has yet to begin and the students are gathered outside the room, waiting for Professor Lupin to let them in.

"Fuck off Malfoy."

"Really? That all you could come up with Potter?" Malfoys smirks and chuckles, eyeing Harry's tired appearance.

Said '_Golden Boy' _Has his tie loose and out of place, under his robes he is wearing a loosely fitting jumper and what might be dark muggle jeans, his hair is messy as usual but somehow artfully so, windswept, if you will. He is glaring at Draco rather pointedly and has a tired and thoroughly annoyed look on his face.

Mayfoy, who appears very well put together and knows it, chuckles a bit and folds his arms across his dress-shirt clad chest. His robes are falling neatly to the length they are supposed to and his tie hanging undone but neatly around his shoulders.

"You know what Malfoy?" Harry says, "You're a right git." Harry mumbles.

"You hear that? I'm a git! The chosen one has at last responded to one of my insults!" Malfoy clutches his chest, gaping in mock horror. " He has retaliated with such a force that even I… The Malfoy heir… cannot escape. A git!" He puts his hand dramatically against his forehead and twirls dramatically, " How crude. Horrible really! I couldn't imagine a person so cruel as to call me…"

"A foul git…" Harry cuts off Malfoys over dramatic speech but the git continues as if Harry never spoke. Malfoy is now standing right in front of Harry who is glaring at him blankly.

"So cruel… so so cruel… a git you say?" He inquires mockingly, hands on his hips, head tilted.

"Yes Malfoy that's what I said. You really are quite an insufferable and overdramatic prat."

"Hmph" Malfoy pouts. "Fuck off Potter."

"Great one Malfoy, you come up with that yourself?" Harry says sarcastically. "Oh wait… I said that to you!"

"Well maybe you should take your own advice and fuck off then!"

"Really Malfoy… do you and your daddy sit down at dinnertime over the summer and just make lists of countless insults for you to recite to me at school?"

"That was a particularly bad insult Potter."

"Go tell your father about it"

"Maybe I will!" Some of the surrounding students snicker and Malfoy grabs the front of Harry's robes and pushes him against the wall. "Watch yourself Potter," Then he leans in closer, inspecting Harry's face for a moment. "What's wrong with your face Potter?"

Harry glares at Malfoy, confused. Malfoy looks Harry right in the eye and he can see the silver flecks of color in his eyes and the pale blue is icy and invasive and Harry can't tell what Malfoy could be thinking because either Harry is very bad at reading faces or Malfoy is just very good at hiding how he feels. But for a moment, Malfoy reaches up to touch Harry's cheek, right under his eye, where Harry realizes he has acquired a particularly painful scrape, and Harry flinches. Malfoy falters, but his sneer is back before anyone can notice.

"Well…? What _is _wrong with my face Malfoy?" Harry grumbles shoving Malfoy away.

"There are countless things wrong with your face, starting with your horrid eyesight." Malfoy retorts, pushing Harry back against the wall without letting go of his shirt. But he has is still looking at The bruised scrape on his cheek and the healing cut in his lip.

Then Malfoy knocks Harry's glasses off his face, releases him, and returns to the opposite wall.

Lupin appears a few minutes later and the class settles in and the lesson begins, Harry restoring the glamour charm.

During the class, Malfoy catches himself looking curiously at Potter, he eyes the spots on his face where he swears he saw bruising or scrapes. He definitely had a split lip. After class, Malfoy is walking up to Lupins desk for reasons unknown even to him.

"Can I help you Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin asks.

"Professor, I wanted to talk to you about another student."

"What about this student?"

"I'm worried I suppose." Malfoy reluctantly admits.

"Huh, okay, and why would that be."

"Well, I saw some cuts on his face. I think he might be having trouble with some of the slytherins."

"You are a slytherin." Lupin points out and Malfoy has to hold back the obvious retort.

"I mean the other slytherins."

"Alright, you are going to have to tell me who it is you're worried about though."

"Harry Potter."

"Ah. Okay then Mr. Malfoy."

"What do you think is going on? I mean, the other Slytherins have never really gotten physical, we're only in third year."

"I can't say for sure, but even if I knew, there is student teacher confidentiality, so I could not tell you. However, with the knowledge of your supposed hatred for Harry, what possessed you to report this?"

"Should I not have?"

"No! No… you should have, I am immensely glad that you did, and very proud that you could forget your pride and put Harry's safety above it for even a moment. I am merely curious is all." Lupin shrugs.

"I don't necessarily _hate _him I suppose. It's more of a friendly rivalry." Pause.

"I see. Thank you for informing me of this, I will look into having a chat with him about this."

"Thank you professor."

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy, thank you as well."

And with that, the blond boy walks out and the professor is left to dwell on this newfound information by his lonesome.

The next day is a Saturday and most students had gone off to hogsmeade, Harry however, could not, seeing as his uncle hadn't signed his permission form. So Harry was wondering across the hogwarts grounds when his DADA professor approached him. At first he just walked beside Harry, then he began to speak.

"Hello Harry."

"Hello professor."

"How've you been doing?"

"Well, I suppose. How about you?"

"Quite well. I can assure you that teaching is quite satisfactory. Being able to see the progress in students can be rewarding."

"Your classes are some of the best."

"Thank you. I try to make them entertaining as well as informative." The professor chuckles. Then "Would you like to have some tea in my office?"

"Uh, sure" Harry, follows his teacher into his office and they both sit at small table beside the big desk, tea cups and a kettle of hot tea appears between them and Lupin pours some tea into each of their glasses.

"I've always had quite an obsession with tea. I tried to force your father into liking it but he was more of a pumpkin juice kind of guy," Lupin chuckles.

"What about my mum?"

"Lily… she like tea too, though she quite enjoyed butterbeer and hot chocolate."

"What else were my parents like." Harry leans forward. "If you don't mind me asking?"

"Of course I don't Harry. I loved your parents. They were both some of my closest friends."

"What about… Sirius Black?"

"What about him?" Lupin says, suddenly more cross.

"I just heard someone mention that he had been… been best friends with my father. And I wanted… I wanted to know…"

Lupin sighs and Harry sips his tea tensely.

"Harry, Sirius was… he wasn't a murderer." Lupin begins, shifting forward in his seat. "He was… we thought we knew him. He was one of our best friends, granted it took Lily a while to warm up to him, eventually she began to grow fond of him though, before she like james even. Sirius really was quite a likable guy. No one suspected he would do anything like this. We were wrong. And I am so truly sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"But I still trusted him Harry."

"Professor… I also wanted to ask about… Peter Pettigrew… He's … dead right?"

"I'm afraid so Harry, Sirius killed him the night your parents died."  
"I'm sorry."

"Harry it is not your need to be sorry for me."

"Yes, but you lost three of your closest friends in one night. And the fourth was found guilty for murdering them."

"Yes. Quite true, and though that was… is devastatingly and horribly painful… we are here now aren't we? And we'll be okay,"

"Yes, I guess so."

"What else would you like to know then?" Lupin settles back again, tea in hand.

"I also heard that… Sirius was supposed to be my godfather… is that true?"

"Yes. It is…"

"And… you said you were also one of their friends… So if it hadn't been Sirius, would you have been my godfather?" Harry asks, head down.

"Harry… I don't know what decisions your parents would have made had things not gone the way they did. I do know, that Sirius and I, or so I thought, were very, very close… and we had quite a few arguments regarding whether or not _I _was the spy." Lupin sighs. "A diversion, now that I'm seeing clearly, and I believe that Lily and James had thought it was me as well. And it would have been rather stupid to make me your godfather if I was a suspected spy for voldemort."

"But… you weren't a spy."

"I know that. And maybe if your parents had known too, I would have been your godfather. I would have quite liked to be. You truly are their son Harry."

"Thank you." they both pause. "And I would have quite liked if you were my godfather as well." Lupin smiled and bowed his head.

Lupins mind swarmed. Mixed with feelings of guilt because this isn't what James and Lily wanted and this was Sirius' role. Lupin can't be a godfather. Or any father at all. He is dangerous and he can't control himself on full moons and this is why He couldn't take Harry in. Sirius should be here. With him. With Harry. With his _godson_… his best friends son. But Sirius betrayed them. They're dead and it's because of Sirius.

Remus can't believe it some days. The childlike boy who loved to laugh and joke around… a death eater? The boy who cared so deeply for his friends, who trusted so openly, who had begun so closed off but had finally confided in and loved fully his friends and chosen family… betrayed the people whom he had considered family? The boy who was against every belief his blood family taught him became one of them in the end? The boy who grew up an outcast, a dissapointment, the boy who was disowned for not agreeing with the very thing he was convicted of, the boy who ran away from his home at 16 because his parents wanted him to take the dark mark, The boy who fought so hard to help the order and who fought so _passionately_ for the people he supposedly _loved_ and Remus is forced to believe that this is the same boy who was found guilty of the murder of 13 muggles, one of his childhood friends, and was responsible for the deaths of two of his closest friends and almost his own godson.

The boy who at 16 moved into James' house is the same boy who got James killed five years later. The same boy who betrayed his _family_. It can't be right. _It can't._ And Remus wished so, _so_ deeply that it wasn't Sirius. For some miracle to come back and for Sirius to be innocent and for everything to be right in the world again.

But it wasn't going to happen. Even Dumbledore believes Sirius to be guilty. Even if Remus truly believed Sirius to be innocent, there's no proof. They could have checked his wand. Used veritaserum. But it's too late for that now. How Remus made it this far without his friends he doesn't know. Even a week without Sirius or one the marauders (and Lily) would have been thought unbearable to Remus back at Hogwarts as a student.

"Professor?" Harry asks, bringing Remus out of his thoughts.

"Yes Harry?"

"Sorry, I uh… I didn't meant to upset you or anything."

"Quite alright. You didn't," Remus assured him.

"Okay, well, if there's nothing else…"

"Actually Harry… There is something that I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh… er… okay,"

"It has been brought to my attention… that you have some injuries." Lupin says calmly, looking right at Harry, or more specifically, the scab under his eye.

"Professor,They Are nothing that i can't handle." Harry says.

"Alright Harry. I don't mean to pry, but you understand… you understand that you can trust me right? Your father got into fights quite often when he was your age… doesn't mean you should be fighting people though,"

"Yeah… I know." Harry draws out, picking at a loose string in the fabric of his chairs cushion.

"Just making sure." Remus says, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. "And you also know that, when a student is hurt, and another student shows concern, that teacher is… required to investigate the situation and make sure everything is alright? It could be dangerous for yourself and other students to be getting into fights, and if it is something else then we need to make sure everyone is safe in those circumstances as well." Remus continues and Harry nods.

"Professor, honestly, I'm great. The git that came to you was probably trying to play some kind of joke,"

"Harry…"

"Malfoy right? It was Malfoy who came to you?"

"Student confidentiality."

"Alright then." he says, resigned, they both just look at each other.. waiting. "I know it was Malfoy though."

Remus leans closer to inspect a bruising and scabbed cut is under his eyes and his split lip. It doesn't appear that Harry was hurt to the point of danger. Luckily it was nearly the second week of Hogwarts and most of the injuries were beginning to heal, but they had existed nonetheless.

"It's not a big deal. I didn't want people to worry." Harry says.

"You know it could've been healed in minutes right?"

"I didn't want to go to the hospital wing."

"How did it happen?" Remus asks calmly.

"My cousin Duley and some of his friends. The day before term started." Harry says quietly.

"How often does it happen?"

"I'm not sure, he's a teenage boy with a cousin who's family see's as a freak. Everytime he gets mad I suppose. I'm not in danger though, and you shouldn't worry. He's rather stupid and though he's large he isn't particularly strong."

"Harry you know I should tell Dumbledore about this."

"I think he knows already."

"Just to be sure."  
"Okay."

The two of them sit in silence for a few more minutes. Remus finishes his tea and put down his empty cup.

"It was Malfoy right?" Harry asks. "Malfoy told you?"

"He actually seemed worried."

"Malfoy? No. Maybe he's just a good actor. That boy doesn't have it in him to care about the boy who lived." Harry chuckles and Remus thinks he might be reading into it too much but he sees something flash across Harry's face.

"Harry he doesn't hate you."

"Yeah he does, says so regularly."

"Maybe he's just a good actor. He told me he didn't. You only have a friendly rivalry if you ask me" Lupin chuckles kindly.

"Professor, it's Malfoy."

"Give him a chance."

"Yeah alright."

"Well, I suppose dinner is starting soon. You should probably go and meet your friends." Lupin smile wistfully, as if remembering a time when he himself was waiting for his own friends. Sirius pulling Remus after him, arm slung around neck, James telling elaborate stories and Peter laughing and adding on the parts James forgets or skips. Remus wishes he could go back. Do something to save them. Help them. Make things okay again.

(Now he's always going to be waiting. Waiting outside Godric's Hollow, right at the creek that they had considered their meeting place. He would be standing there forever. Waiting for James and Lily to come by, laughing and poking fun at each other, baby Harry tight in one of their arms. He would be that boy again, waiting for them to meet up with him. Except they won't ever come. And Moony will be waiting. No Padfoot. No Prongs. No Wormtail. No Lily, no Baby Harry. Just Moony and his furry little secret.)

"Yeah. But- err… just… before this, you said that Peter was dead… But I found his name on the map Snape confiscated from me the other night."

"Professor Snape Harry, and what map?"

"I think it was called… The Marauders Map or something?" Harry says, "But I definitely saw Peter Pettigrew's name on it.

"Hm."

"Maybe it was a mistake."

"Yes maybe." Remus says to Harry but to himself he whispers "But the map never lies."

Within the next few days, Remus is found arguing with Snape over a piece of _joke parchment_ that was confiscated by one Harry Potter a few nights earlier.

"Severus, you would have to agree that this is my department."

"Yes Remus, well I think you are rather _unfit_ to help at the moment so I shall keep it _safe_."

"Severus, you know very well that I am perfectly capable of handling a silly piece of parchment from a simple joke shop, it really is only precaution to have a defense teacher check it."

"Yes well, _Moony,_ I don't think that would be necessary." Remus flinches at his friends nickname for him but recovers quickly.

"Alright then, _Snivellus,_ it's on you if something goes horribly wrong with that paper, and embarrassment really doesn't suit you. Maybe you should get over whatever the Parchment says and let me check it for the safety of our students."

"Get Out. Lupin."

Lupin turns and swishes his robe as he exits Snapes office, he reaches into his pocket and drops into the room a small dung bomb from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. _Smiling to himself, he remembers when they had been in school and the Marauders had dropped a dozen dung bombs into a broom cupboard and locked a young Severus Snape into ity. James is almost still there behind him snickering with Peter trying to contain his own fits of laughter. _Oh to be young and have friends who weren't _dead.


	2. 2: The golden Walk

**Authors note: Is this how you do this? lol. Just wanted to say thank you for reading this! I have chapter 3 in progress so it should be up soon. Feel free to tell me what you think and leave feedback or something :)**

Harry has been holed up in the Library with Hermione and Ron for the past hour and a half. He is awfully bored but this potions essay is due next class and he really doesn't have another chance to get it done. So he is hunched over his parchment, quill in hand and multiple books open to chapters on the inner workings of the _draught of peace. _

Ron, it seems, is in a whole other world. He has his books open and his materials out but he has been staring at the same place on the page for about ten minutes. Hermione is beside them, scribbling furiously on her third roll of parchment. Harry tiredly finishes his sentence and puts down his quill. He really needs a break.

He stretches his arms and back and cracks his knuckles, then leans forward once again, elbows on table, head in hands. And that's when he notices the platinum blonde hair a few tables away. He just barely notices the quick turn of the blond's head as Harry looks at him, as if he had been watching Harry. After a few moments, however, it seems that Malfoy is too deeply concentrating on his own homework to have been noticing Harry. He seems to be scribbling almost as fast as Hermione.

Harry almost turns back to his own essay but he suddenly remembers his talk with professor Lupin. It was Malfoy who had told, and the question of _Why had he done that _had been running through his head quite a lot.

So Harry pushes up from his seat, causing both Hermione and Ron to be knocked from their thoughts and looking up at him.

"I'm just gonna go have a word with Malfoy."

"Harry… Why do you need to." Hermione pleads.

"Hermione I'll be fine, we aren't gonna get into any fist fights, so don't worry."

"You go have those words pal…" Ron says and returns to staring blankly at the textbook.

Harry ignores Hermione's disapproving looks at him and he stalks over to Malfoys table in the corner. After a moment, when Malfoy doesn't look up, Harry pulls out a chair and sits himself down, leaning back until the two front legs of the chair are lifted a few inches off the ground, and Harry can swing his legs up onto the table, startling Malfoy from his essay.

"Potter! What do you want?" Malfoy glares at him. "And get your dirty feet off the table." He says, shoving hairrys legs off the table.

"Malfoy." Harry says in greeting.

"Potter."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Absolutely nothing Potter in fact I'd say I'm nearly perfect. You however…" Malfoy looks Harry up and down but finds himself unable to finish the sentence, instead he just glares at Harry with a disgusted look on his face.

"Alright then…" Harry says annoyed. "Why did you think it was any of your business to talk to Professor Lupin?"

"I didn't,"

"Liar."

"I may twist the truth, but there are no lies."

"Lies." Harry hisses at him.

"Potter?" Malfoy sighs in exasperation.

"Malfoy," harry mocks, making it sound breathier and more dramatic.

"I do not sound like that."

"Have you heard your voice?"

"Shut it Potter."

They both just glare at each other for a few moments before Harry speaks up again.

"It was none of your business."

"I know."

"So why did you tell Lupin?"

"Why not?"

"You just want to spread all of my problems round the school don't you?" Harry asks angrily.

"Don't be so full of yourself Potter, I didn't tell anyone else."

"Malfoy, I cannot for the life of me figure out what your angle is on this." Harry says. "You don't care about me so you couldn't have been worried, you don't like Lupin so it wasn't to please him, You don't care about defense against the dark arts class so you weren't being a kiss-ass to help your grades, and you didn't tell anyone else so you weren't trying to embarrass me." He sighs. "So what was your point?"

"I need a point?"

"I just want to know you ass."

"I was worried."

"No you weren't," Harry narrows his eyes.

"Is it really that hard to believe potter? Am I really so mean to you that you can't imagine me being worried when I see that you are clearly hurt?" Malfoy whispers viciously.

"yes, you are that mean."

"Fuck off Potter."

"Draco Malfoy… Son of death eater: Lucius Malfoy… _Caring_ about _Harry Potter _of all people… Chosen one… destroyer of the dark lord himself… what has the world become?" Harry puts his feat back up onto the table, laughing at Malfoy.

"Shut it Potter, You have no proof!"

"What to do with this new information?" Harry teases, folding his arms behind his head.

"Potter you know full well that I hate you!"

"Do I?"

"Yes! You do!"

"But you still care about me?"

"Well I do have feeling you know?"

"Really?" Harry exclaims, taking his feet off the table and leaning in close as if prepared to hear an interesting bit of gossip.

"Shut up."

"Nah. I don't think I will" Harry chuckles.

"Well if you don't, I might give in to temptation and just push you off that chair."

"You wouldn't dare Malfoy."

"I would too Potter! But with the way you keep leaning back like that I might not have to."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Harry sarcastically laughs.

Malfoy rolls his eyes and goes back to writing on the parchment. Harry taps his fingers loudly on the table just to annoy Malfoy, who is trying not to get agitated. Harry just watches him, light smile unconsciously falling onto his face. When did their sharp exchange of insults become friendly banter? Harry notices the way Malfoy sticks his tongue out while he's writing and how his hair keeps falling into his face, making him flick it back with a shap head movement. After the third time the blond hair falls into his eyes, Harry laughs, stopping his loud finger tapping.

"I am trying to do my potions homework." Malfoy says.

"Yeah well, so am I."

"You don't have parchment. Or books. Or your quills." Malfoy says.

Harry looks at Malfoy thoughtfully. The boy seems almost human. A rude human. An evil and vile human. Very annoying and unnecessarily mean human… But still human.

A boy who struggles with making friends. Who works hard for his grades, who gets annoyed quite easily.

"Potter?" Malfoy asks, huffing his breath out in agitation.

Harry squints at Malfoy, tilting his head as if trying to see him from a new angle or in different light. In the end he finds himself looking off in confusion before he is able to regain his glare at Malfoy as he stalks away from the blondes table and sits back down with Ron and Hermione.

"Well, how'd it go mate?" Ron asks, finally out of the trance that potions homework put him into.

"It went fine."

"What did you need to talk to him about?" Hermione asks.

"He was being an ass." Hermione glares at him but Harry ignores it.

"So Harry, how are you doing on your potions essay?"

"I don't know. Hermione'll need to proofread it."

"Any chance I can copy it?" Ron asks hopefully. Hermione glares at him in warning and Harry looks back to Ron cautiously.

"Ya know Ron you should really start doing your own work," Harry says, eyes on Hermione. Ron deflates and Hermione looks pleased. But once Hermione is back to writing her essay, Harry mouths to Ron 'Later.'

Draco Malfoy is a slytherin. A pureblood slytherin at that. So where the hell did all his pride go?

Not only was was he worrying about another person, but said person was a gryffindor. And said gryffindor was HARRY BLOODY POTTER. There must be something seriously wrong.

Malfoy is pulling on some silk slytherin pajama pants and admiring his hair in the mirror. He looks rather tired. He sees in the reflection that his eyes have bags under them and his hair is beautiful but not as soft as it should be. He really ought to take better care of himself.

He lets himself fall back into his bed to think.

Harry boody Potter. The chosen one. Boy who fucking lived. Golden boy.

"Draco, we're heading to dinner." Blaise says, peeking his head into the room.

"I think I'll get something from the kitchens later."

"Alright."

Once Blaise and most of the rest of the school is down at dinner, Draco pulls on a shirt and some robes and grabs his broom.

Down at the quidditch pitch, he mounts his broom, pushes up off the ground, and leans forward against the wind. Draco flattens himself against his broom, rushing up and spiraling as he gathers height and speed. He pulls back once he can feel the clouds mist and slows down till he's looking down through the fog at the fuzzy outline of the castle. The mist moistens his shirt and pants and it's sticking to his skin. It's cold and refreshing and after all the contemplation and thinking that's been fogging up his mind, the coolness on his skin and wetness on his face makes his mind feel clearer. The breeze makes him feel alive and he speeds up again, flying in quick circles just to feel the cold wind whipping through his hair.

Through the clouds and mist he can see the faint glow of the sun behind the castle, lowering slowly into sunset.

Draco spends a while doing stunts and tricks on the broom. He finds himself practicing quidditch, diving and pulling quick out of dives. He flies until he feels that he's got it perfect. Till his face is numb from the cold and his hair is so tousled he'll need to run a comb through it a dozen times to get it back to its neat state.

He dives one last time, speeding with exhilarating speed straight towards the ground. Once he sees the green of the quidditch pitch, he prepares himself, and grips the handle of the broom tighter. Then, just seconds away from hitting the ground, he pulls out of the dive and into a flip, catching sight of a familiar figure standing by the stands.

Draco almost loses his grip, his hands slip and he feels the broom jerk a bit as he loses concentration, realizing he is nearly completely upside down, he struggles to grab back on as his feet fall down with gravity, he's hanging on just with his hands before his broom rights itself and in seconds the whole thing is over and Malfoy is back safely on the broom. He brings himself to a landing, looking in the direction of the figure that caused him to lose his grip… and of course that's who it is. Harry bloody Potter. Draco scowls at him, but from this far away, he doubts the golden boy can tell.

Malfoy doesn't move from the spot where he landed, attempting to catch his breath and calm his beating heart. As Potter starts to walk across the pitch towards him, he tries to play off his breathlessness and need to take a rest by looking around at the sky as if admiring the view.

The sun is almost right behind Hogwarts by now, casting golden light over everything it can touch. It spreads across the quidditch pitch and over Hagrid's hut. It reaches up to the trees at the edge of the forbidden forest and only does it disappear deep within the thick trees.

As Harry Potter approaches, Malfoy can see that the golden liquid light washes gently across the golden boy as well. And suddenly the nickname golden boy is very, very appropriate.

Harry nears… _when did it become 'Harry'?_ And Draco tries to look casual and cold. But his soaked satin pajama bottoms and soggy t-shirt that sticks to his chest is probably giving off a very bedraggled and stupid looking appearance.

"Potter." Malfoy sneers.

"Malfoy." He says back coldly.

"What brings you here then?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"Why?" Malfoy asks with a snort.

"Because the sun is nice after dinner, I like to come out and see it, maybe fly a bit, ya know, enjoy the view." Potter says as if it's obvious.

"Right. Well, I suppose it is rather nice, huh?"

"Yup." Potter pops the 'p' and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Draco can't for the life of him see why Potter decides to wear muggle jeans, but currently, his mind must be pretty muddled because he definitely isn't minding.

The sun washes over Potters skin, making him appear to glow, the golden light warms his face and softens the colors, making his face looks so smooth and soft and the color of his eyes…. making each individual shade of green stand out and blend together at the same time. His messy hair is worse than usual, but Draco thinks he makes it work. Plus, his odd sense of style (usually consisting of muggle clothes) fits him quite well. Overall, as much as Draco hates to admit it, Harry Potter is certainly quite attractive.

"Malfoy?" Potter asks, _shit, was he staring?_

"Yes Potter?"

"Kinda lost ya there. I said that you looked like you just came crawling out of the lake, maybe you should put on some dry clothes,"

"Why do you care?" Malfoy snaps.

"I don't." Potter says shortly and runs his hand through his hair.

Draco tilts his head up, challenging Potters statement, and Potter wipes whatever thoughtful look he had on his face, -_he was always thinking about something, wasn't he? -_and replaces it with a smirk.

**(Switch pov)**

_Harry pushes the thoughts that had been begging for his attention firmly to the back of his mind and Smirks at Malfoy. _

"You wish I cared."

"I wish for no such thing!" Malfoy says defensively, combing his hand through his damp and knotted hair.

"Really?" Harry Questions.

"Why would I want you to care about me?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

Malfoy hesitates for a second, and Harry thinks for a second he won this round, but then; "Why do you have to be so full of yourself Potter?"

"I'm not Malfoy."

"Yeah right."

Harry just glares at the blond boy, he had stepped into this one, but Malfoy had still hesitated. What could that mean?

"Well Malfoy, as much as I would love to stick around and insult you, I think I'd rather continue my walk." Harry says, and begins to walk away. Then for some reason, he calls behind him, "Feel free to join me." and for reasons not even Malfoy himself could come up with, Harry turns to see that Malfoy has in fact jogged up beside Harry.

Harry must have been going insane. And Malfoys brain must have been damaged when Neville spilled that potion in class last week, because the two of them walked in silence together for a while, reluctantly enjoying having someone to walk beside. Harry commented on a few of the places he knew of throughout the grounds, and Draco laughed or nodded in the right places, and for once in both of their lives, it was civil.

When the sun had gone down, and the golden light had faded to a hazy wash of sun, then finally the light had slipped away completely, the two boys were once again nearing Hogwarts. It was dusk, so the dark was only just arriving. Harry stood just inside the castle doors beside Malfoy. They were looking at each other. Neither could have been asked to describe what had changed, Harry still felt a deep hatred for Malfoy and Malfoy definitely didn't like Harry either. But maybe they were overplaying the hatred. And a brief thought flit across Harry's mind. _What if I don't actually hate him? What if it's how I think I should feel. Not how I actually feel. _It was something Hermione had said to him that put the idea in his mind, and lately it was all he could think about. But he tried to brush it off. Of course he hated Malfoy. How could he not. He was an ass.

But now, looking at the boy, he felt as though maybe he was being a bit dramatic. Sure he had reason to Hate malfoy. But does he actually hate him?

And with that, Potter pushed the thought away, returned Malfoys sneer with a glare and stalked away, muttering a "goodnight" behind him. He almost thinks he hears Malfoy respond.

"Good night Potter."


End file.
